


Butterflies and Hurricanes

by ashinatrashcan



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: 2009 Phan, Drabble, First Love, First Meeting, Fluff, M/M, Romance, complete and utter fluff piece, jumps to 2017 at the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-20
Updated: 2017-03-20
Packaged: 2018-10-08 07:09:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10381299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashinatrashcan/pseuds/ashinatrashcan
Summary: Dan Howell is head over heels for the endearingly strange boy with eyes like the ocean.(Or: a small piece I wrote to get some 2009 Phan feelings out of my system. Read with caution - this is pure fluff.)





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Dan and Phil fic (my first RPF ever, actually) and I actually kinda wrote it by mistake? I just started writing one night to get some feelings out and this happened, so I hope at least one person gets something out of it by me posting it here. Sorry if the formatting or anything is off, I'm not used to AO3 yet!
> 
> (Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Some events/details are pulled from old tweets, but the majority is from my imagination.) I would really appreciate some feedback! You can find me on tumblr if you are so inclined @ ashinatrashcan.

**2009**

Dan has been in love before. Or, at least, he thinks he has. He’s had the fumbling kisses in the back of a movie theatre, the late night texting and IMing, the whooshing feeling in his stomach that kept him awake, smiling in the darkness. But he’s never felt anything like this before.

He’s had butterflies, sure. But this? This is fireworks, and oceans, and burning suns. And he hasn’t even met Phil in person. Somehow through months of twitter flirting and skype calls that manage to make six hours feel like six minutes, he has completely fallen for the quirky boy with eyes like the sea. The boy who he’s watched on youtube and idolized for so long. The boy who’s funny and sweet and slightly strange in the most endearing way. It’s scary and exhilarating and baffling, but it’s _real_.

“What are you thinking about?” Phil asks, his voice slightly garbled through Dan’s shitty laptop speakers. “You’ve got a funny look on your face.” He leans in close to the camera, tilting his dark head to one side, and Dan can’t hold back a smile.

“You, to be honest,” he says boldly, feeling a thrill run through him. His eyes dart down in embarrassment for a moment, but he forces himself to look back up at the screen.

Phil’s eyebrows fly up in surprise, but the blush that creeps up his cheeks is visible even through the low quality webcam. Dan takes a deep breath, focusing on a loose strand of Phil’s hair so he doesn’t lose his nerve and look away.

“Lately it feels like you’re all I think about, actually,” he adds, so quietly he’s not sure the speakers will pick it up. There’s a long pause. Dan’s heart is in his throat, slowly choking him to death. And then;

“I’ve been thinking a lot about you too,” Phil says softly, and Dan’s stomach does a full somersault.

*****

“Dan, did you even hear what I said?” Dan jumps as his mother waves a hand in front of his eyes, quickly turning his phone facedown on the kitchen table.

“Uh, yeah, you said... clean the... dishes?” Dan hazards a guess, fidgeting with the volume buttons on the side of his cellphone. In truth, he hadn’t even known she was in the room, let alone speaking to him.

“I said ‘please sort your massive pile of laundry before it engulfs us all’, but close enough.” She lets out a long suffering sigh, eyeing her son. He’s got a dazed and strangely luminous look on his face that is unfamiliar to her. She shakes her head in bemusement, going back to peeling potatoes. “Who are you texting, anyway? You were staring at your phone as though it held the secrets of the universe.”

Dan just smiles.

 *****  

_so we r officially meeting irl in 7 days... 0.0_

**_god 7 days makes it sound so ominous lmao *samara voice* 7 daaaayyysss_ **

**_but yea i know. im counting down xD_ **

_im so excited to see u!_

_ur not secretly some creepy old man whos gonna lock me in a basement and force feed me cheese right?_

**_only u would consider being force fed cheese as the worst torture_ **

**_also that would b a good trick since we’ve been speaking on skype for months lol u utter spork_ **

_yea bt you could b wearing a dan skin suit for all i know_

**_omg u caught me, how did u guess_ **

_pretty cute skin suit tho ;]_

**_shut up xD u weirdo_ **

*****

Dan can’t keep his hands still. He fidgets with the magazine in his lap, with the cord of his headphones, with the hem of his shirt. His entire body is buzzing with electricity, vibrating. Not because he’s sitting on a train that is grumbling and rattling like it’s about to wheeze its last breath, but because of where the train is headed. His phone feels heavy in his hand, the latest text from Phil still lighting the screen; a cheerful “cant wait to see you :]”.

He has never been much of a ‘people person’ – on the contrary, he has occasional bouts of social anxiety that make him a nervous socializer, as much as he attempts to hide it with bravado and jokes. But Dan has never felt this strange cocktail of emotions before, a whirling storm of nerves in the pit of his stomach giving rise to a flurry of excited butterflies. There is one thing he understands above all else, though, and this floats to the forefront of his mind as he stares out at the unfamiliar city; there is nobody in the world he wants to see right now more than Phil Lester.

And suddenly the train is pulling to a juddering halt, the doors are opening, everyone around him is rising from their seats. It shouldn’t be a big deal, just two online friends meeting in real life. People do it all the time, right? Travel four hours on a train to meet someone they’ve never seen before in the flesh? As Dan stands and walks to the open doors, it feels as though his world is tilting on its axis. What if he is different from what Phil expects? What if they are so awkward in real life that it ruins their friendship and whatever else is budding between them? What if he trips right now as he’s stepping off the train and dies; or worse, makes a complete arse of himself in front of the guy he maybe loves? What if they-

But Phil is standing there, right in front of him, in the 3D and technicolor of the real world. He’s tall, as tall as Dan is, and he’s got that crooked smile that makes Dan’s stomach ache, and he’s waving, wearing the shirt that Dan once said looked great on him. And suddenly all Dan’s fears evaporate.

“Hey, Dan,” Phil says through a smile that is sunshine, pulling him into a hug. And everything is okay.

*****

The room is quiet, and so still that Dan can feel his own heart thumping. He can faintly hear a dog barking outside, and some lunatic neighbour mowing their lawn at six at night, but they might as well be on another planet. All that exists is this room. This small, dark room that he knows so well from videos, from dailybooth photos, from skype. He knows the posters on the walls. He knows the tiny stuffed lion that sits proudly on the dresser. He knows the radiator that shudders in the background of their phone calls on cold nights. He knows the twin-sized bed with the bright covers. And he knows this boy.

They had been out in the city all day, in no hurry to be anywhere, just content to finally be together in person. Phil had bought him a coffee in Starbucks, and they’d sat talking in a quiet corner of the shop for hours. On the walk to the Apple store, Dan’s hand had brushed the back of Phil’s. It had been an accident, or at least an accidental side effect of Dan attempting to stay as close to Phil as possible. But after only a brief hesitation, Phil had taken Dan’s hand and held it. They both lost their nerve once they got to the store, but when Phil had taken Dan to the Skybar afterwards, their hands had stayed firmly clasped under the table the entire time.

Phil’s hand is in Dan’s now, and it doesn’t look like much, but it feels like it’s the only thing holding him down to the earth. He can’t stop staring at their twined fingers. His eyes stay trained on their hands as Phil slowly lifts them, bringing Dan’s hand to his mouth and pressing a soft kiss there that he feels all over his body. And that’s when he knows. He knows with a depth of feeling that he didn’t think was possible. He’s in love.

It’s this thought that gives him the courage to whisper his fingers across Phil’s jaw, pulling him closer with barely a touch, and press their lips together.

 

**2017**

Gold is beginning to creep beneath the curtains, painting the colourful bedspread with tendrils of light. Dan hasn’t slept. This isn’t a rare instance; he has stayed up many nights, trawling the internet with heavy eyelids and jumping in surprise at the glow of dawn because _he could’ve sworn it was 1am a few minutes ago_. But tonight is different. He’s curled on his side like a child, every angle in his body pointing towards the man sleeping peacefully beside him. For what could be the thousandth time, his eyes slowly rake down the form that is as familiar as his own reflection.

A tendril of messy black hair, brushing against the closed eyelashes. The tiny crease in the centre of that pale forehead. Pink lips, slightly parted, the same flushed colour as the cheeks. A hand curled around the edge of the duvet. The bare leg that is pressed firmly against his, unwilling to be separate from him even in deep sleep.

Phil Lester. Best friend, serial cereal stealer, lover, partner. Home. Dan feels a strange smile unfurling slowly on his face, feeling ridiculous in his own sentimentality. A small flutter in the very pit of his stomach makes him close his eyes. _Butterflies._ He almost chuckles aloud.

Overcome by a strange impulse, he flips over and reaches for his phone. He opens the twitter app and taps the message icon, clicking ‘@AmazingPhil’. Scrolls back, back, back; rewinds months, years, almost a decade of conversations blurring together until finally when he feels as though his finger is going numb, the screen bumps to a halt.

_hey! ^.^ thanks 4 the comments about my vids, u seem really nice ^-^_

_what did u think of drag me to hell btw? :o_

And there it is, in all its embarrassingly ancient emoji-riddled glory – the first DM Phil ever sent him, after months of Dan @ replying just about every tweet he posted. It seems so small, insignificant even, but Dan can remember the excitement this message had stirred in him as vividly as if it was yesterday.

He almost chuckles at the thought of 2009 Dan seeing 9 years into the future – two books, a radio show, a shared channel, a successful stage show, and a fair few actual awards. And all because Dan had twitter-harassed the guy from youtube that he thought was cute and talented.

He smiles at his phone for a moment before screenshotting the DM for later and putting his phone back on the side table. He rolls back over, settling down beside his partner, and the nostalgia is still coursing through him like a drug. He’s eighteen again, scared and excited and so in love his head is spinning.

The few inches of distance between them is far too much. Dan gently shuffles closer, pressing his body against Phil’s and nestling his face into the soft, worn fabric of his t-shirt. Phil stirs without waking, unconsciously wrapping an arm around Dan and tugging him closer. Their legs twine together, fitting like two pieces of a puzzle, and then they are still, their cuddle position as familiar to Dan as the sound of Phil’s voice. Dan listens for the steady thud of his heartbeat, just breathing him in. He still smells the same way he did that day at the train station, all boyish and musky and _Phil_.

“Hmmmph,” Phil moans unexpectedly, making Dan jump a little. “Time’sit?” Dan presses impossibly closer, putting his arm around Phil’s waist.

“Dawn,” he murmurs softly, stroking a gentle hand across Phil’s back. “Go back to sleep.”

Phil harrumphs again, resting his chin against Dan’s forehead. “Why’re you awake then?” His voice is hoarse and still slurred with sleep, but one hand comes up to stroke Dan’s curls back from his forehead. Dan can’t answer – his tongue is so heavy. Time stretches by in that hazy, half-asleep way. Phil strokes his hair back a few more times before his hand stills, his breathing deepening again. Dan is teetering on the brink of wakefulness when he remembers the question. Why _is_ he awake? And then it comes to him; completely nonsensical, ridiculously sappy, and utterly true.

“’Cause I love you,” he manages to whisper into the drowsy silence before sleep finally pulls him under.


End file.
